A gift
by 1stRainbowRose
Summary: How exactly did Sarah get her copy of Labyrinth?  How does it have so many acurate details about the underground?  The answers may lay in who wrote it.


Jareth had always had a weak spot for her. At first it was that of a friend. He couldn't help but smile at the small girl, so full of joy and sure of herself and her knowledge of his world. He hadn't seen such a belief in his world since the ages of Kings and knights. In order to get close to her he had become her mother's co-star, sweeping both women off their feet. After a while Linda had fallen in love with his human persona, and he had in an act of mercy given it a life of its own. They had run off together, and were quite happy.

He frowned slightly at the thought of his alter-self. It had been acting less and less like he would ever act like lately. Shrugging, he concluded it really didn't matter since it was no longer a part of him. _Still,_ he thought sitting down in his throne, _it might give me a bad reputation if I ever decide to visit aboveground._ Sighing, he decided he would have to go to the mans dreams and discuss the matter with him.

Summoning a crystal, he looked in on his favorite little girl. She was playing in her room with the dress he had given her, dancing around with an invisable partner. It had been a couple of years since he had given her the dress for her tenth birthday, but it still fit her since he had bought it a couple of sizes larger than nessary anyways. Watching her, he admired how she seemed to fill the dress properly now. Her budding chest seemed to add a bit more character to the blue gown, and the dropped sleeves showed her soft shoulders.

With a start he realized that his feelings for her had changed. He was no longer thinking of her as a child to be friends with, or even as a daugher. Instead, he was wanting to dance with her, and to show her the ways of the adult world. Cluching the crystal tighter, he realized he had fallen in love with her.

_She's much too young_, he rationalized to himself, throwing the crystal away. As it hit the wall it poped like a bubble and he winced, knowing he wouldn't be able to use the orb again. Pinching the bridge of his nose, his thoughts returned to the young girl -- no woman he corrected -- dancing in her room.

Standing, he started to pace. _She is much too young, even her in the underground._

_She is almost of age,_ a cruel voice in his mind answered. _Her birthday is next week you know._

_I know, I know! I've been wracking my brain for what the best thing to give her would be._ He answered, used to arguing with himself like this.

_Why not let her come down and visit?_ He stopped his pacing, shocked at the idea -- and the way his heart skipped at the idea.

_Are we crazy? We know the rules for bringing a mortal down here._ He answered silently. _I wish we could._

_Well then, why not at least tell her about us?_ It countered smugly. He was about to scoff off this idea, but paused. "How though?" He wondered aloud, stepping around the pit in the middle of the room. Walking out the doors, he mentially reviewed everything he knew of the mortal world. "I could always make a film. But no, she doesn't feel those are as good as the stage plays. Her mother drilled that into her. Well then, what of a stage play?" He smiled to himself, sure he had found the answer. A few steps later his face fell. "That wouldn't do either. I would have to find people to play those parts, and I couldn't stand having anyone but the real thing portraying my kingdom. Artwork then? No, that wouldn't work. Much too impratical."

He continued to walk, not paying attention to where he was going, wracking his brain for the solution. He walked into the sleeping chamber of his goblins, and stopped. One of the small creatures saw him, and said "Sire, will you tell us a story?" He laugh at him for asking such a stupid question, and stopped.

"A story? Or perhaps, a book." His eyes light up. "That's it!" He cried, picking up the goblin and hugging it. Unsure of what to do, it stayed limp in his arms. After Jareth set him down, it scuttled away frightened.

Not paying any attention, Jareth whipped around and went to his rooms. Sitting down at a desk in his sitting room, he pulled out a piece of parchment and quill. Grinning wolfishly, he spoke aloud as he wrote "Once upon a time there was a beautiful young woman..."

* * *

Well, there's a quick one-shot for you. The idea came to me while I was reading the book version. I may turn this into a full thing, I haven't decided yet. If I do I will certianly plan out everything before I start writing. I'm sick of these half thought things I've been posting. 


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